Waiting
by i-digress
Summary: Some things are hard to get past. When the time comes, who's going to make the first move? post s6 and spoiler free for s7


Disclaimer - In no way, shape or form do this characters belong to me. Unfortunately.  
  
Spoilers - some reference to Seeing Red and beyond.  
  
A/N - many thanks and much kudos to Trisha for the beta and encouragement. Cheers.  
  
Title - Waiting  
  
He's out there again.  
  
In the same spot, his old second home. Waiting by the tree. He isn't hiding but he's not being obvious about it. He knows I know he's there.  
  
It's been three weeks now. Maybe longer, I don't know. But it's three weeks since I first saw him there. Me and Dawn had just got home from patrol and I'd stepped out to clean up my axe. Didn't want to trail demon innards around the house. Willow's been doing such a good job of keeping the place clean since we asked her if she'd like to move back in. Anyways, I sat down on the steps to clean up the soiled weapon, why I didn't take it round back where the neighbours wouldn't see me I don't know, but some nights I'm just not thinking straight. Usually when I've been reminded of him.  
  
We'd run into Clem on patrol. He'd got himself caught between two kitten poker rivals and the stupid demon was just trying to keep the peace. Nearly ended up in pieces. Well, Dawn stopped one of the poker players, a little red runt with more horns then sense, while I dealt with the other guy. Big but slow, and can you say dumb? Who goes up against a Slayer with an axe when all they're wielding is a flick knife? Took all of two minutes. It took longer to get cleaned up. And afterwards Clem was so grateful (although his skin looked more green than grey) and dragged us back to the crypt for snacks. Nothing says thank you like a bargain bag of Cheetos.  
  
I hadn't been there for months. I'd dropped in after the world nearly went to hell to tell him I knew it wasn't his fault about Dawn being at Rack's, but since then I'd steered clear. I didn't want to know. Didn't want to remember. And all that place held for me was memories. So I was in the crypt, Dawn sprawled across the sarcophagus and chatting with Clem about Passions and telling him about this 'to die for' guy in her art class. I'd already heard it. At least twenty times. So I tuned out. And I heard him.  
  
I always want you. I'd have said he was right behind me if my back hadn't been to the wall. Tell me you love me.  
  
'Buffy?' Dawn was looking at me from the door and I knew that it wasn't the first time she'd called me. I looked towards the chair, expecting him to be watching me, head tilted, eyes shining. But all I saw was Clem.  
  
So we got back and I was sat there muttering about damn demons and their dry hard guts, I mean have you ever imagined the dry cleaning bill? And so much of that stuff is corrosive. I was kinda glad that this was an exception. Some hard scrubbing but no remodelling. Or purchasing of new axes. Cos Giles is so right, they just don't make them like they used to and this one was about five hundred years old and only needed sharpening every fifth demon. Not like that sword I got by mail order. Two days. Two days! Sheesh. And I don't know why I looked up. Maybe calling on the Powers That Be for better craftsmanship. But I saw him out of the corner of my eye. I looked down at the blade in my lap.  
  
It's only your imagination, he's gone. He'll stay gone. He never stays gone. If he got dusted he'd find a way to come back. It's not him.  
  
So I think about looking up, settling the argument that's started in my head. But I don't know if I want it settled. Or how. So I carry on cleaning, testing the edge to check it's still sharp. Cos maybe it is him. Or maybe it's something that needs an introduction to my skills. I'm one talented lady, just don't ask me to sing. And I don't like my work following me home. But then I remember Dawn. If there is something - someone - there, I need to deal with it. And please God let me have an over active imagination. Let it be a case of the wiggins. Don't let it be something I have to deal with. I've got so good at dealing but I'm tired and I want to have a bath and go to sleep. But that means using the bathroom and that's not a comforting idea right now. So looks like I'm not going to rest tonight anyway. Might as well check it out and have a real excuse for looking like death in the morning.  
  
I take a light grip on the axe handle, dropping it to my side so it's ready if needed. I can feel my body tense in anticipation. For fight, flight, I don't know. I straighten my spine but keep my head lowered, putting it off for as long as I can. But my senses have gone into overdrive now. And I know. I can't help but know. I stay seated but I lift my head, turning it.  
  
And he's there. He looks at me for a moment and then drops his eyes. We're both waiting.  
  
And waiting.  
  
And waiting.  
  
I couldn't move now if I wanted to. And I don't want to cos I can't figure out where I'd go. I really don't want to deal with this.  
  
While I sit there tossing ideas (mostly lame) around my head, he moves. Not in any particular direction, just shuffles like he's uncomfortable. And I jump up and the axe comes into a defensive hold in front of me. He looks up at me and then his head drops again as he sighs. That's it? A sigh? From the man who could win the talking Olympics? I thought I was the non-talky one. And then he's gone. Just like that. No promises, no apologies, no begging, nothing. My knees give way and the axe takes a chunk out of the step. I wait for my heart to stop racing and get up, taking my bright and shiny, de-demon gutted axe into the house. I go upstairs, pass the bathroom without a glance, collapse on my bed and burst into tears.  
  
He's been there every night since. I check as I get in, a quick look to the side. I don't acknowledge him. He doesn't approach me. It's a Mexican stand off. He always liked tequila. We had some fine nights, kinda, with tequila. I want to know why he's there. I want to know what he wants. I want to know where he's been and why he didn't stay there. I want to know if he still thinks he loves me. And I don't want to know any of it. Dawn hasn't seen him yet. I've always made sure she's on the other side of me when we get near the house. And I know he wouldn't let Willow see him. Maybe he's scared she'd turn him into a rat. Spike scared. Now there's a thought. I don't think I can remember seeing him scared. Oh yeh. One time. And he wasn't alone. Bastard. Funny, I think he frightened himself more than he frightened me. I knew he was capable of it but I honestly think it took him by surprise. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.  
  
I thought about sending Xander out to see what he's after. Only I know I wouldn't get any answers that way. All I'd get was 'Sorry Buffy, he wouldn't tell me. I think the crossbow bolt made it hard for him to talk'. Totally a non-starter. I can't even consider getting Dawn to do it. She'd beat the hell out of him for ten minutes, he'd let her, and then she'd fall into his arms telling him she hated him and missed him and he mustn't leave again. Not the outcome I'm after here. Anya..God no! It's bad enough I had sex with him on the front lawn, she doesn't even pay the mortgage. And Willow barely says a word. She reminds me of Tara when I first met her. Without the smile. So no way was she going to be high on the list of possible negotiators. Which left.me. And I didn't, don't want to play. Or talk. Or whatever the hell it is that I'm supposed to do.  
  
So I'm gonna wait.  
  
Spike's got a low patience threshold, so either he'll make his move or he'll go. Again. Maybe back to wherever he's been. And I'll be able to forget about him. Cos that worked out so well before.  
  
I think he's been following me out on patrol but I can't be sure. Things have been quieter. Sometimes I hear movement, muted sounds of a struggle, but I can't find anything. The only trouble is that if it's Spike, how come he's there when I get back? How does he know where I'm gonna be? Why does he let me see him at the house but not when I'm doing the rounds. He was never shy about jumping into battle. He knows I don't need protecting. Anytime he did try to play the hero, he'd boast about it. None of it makes any sense. All he's ever done is make my life more complicated, make things harder.  
  
Damn it. Why does he bring out the liar in me? He doesn't make things harder, he's too straight forward for that. It's me. I don't know how to let things be simple. Cos I don't know what I want. The big choice used to be 'To Spike or not to Spike?'. I never quite got that one sorted out. Now it's confront or ignore? I'm still hoping he'll take the decision out of my hands.  
  
But again, that worked out so well last time.  
  
I don't think I can forgive. I know I can't forget. But each day it's got a little easier to ignore. Sometimes I even find myself making excuses for him and I don't know why. Did I drive him to it? Did I deserve it after some of the things I did to him? Should I, could I have stopped him sooner? Was he right? But I know that's all a load of hooey. He let me do what I did to him. Hell, he even enjoyed some of it. And no, that doesn't mean I'm not in the wrong. But I didn't want what he did to me. There's no way to justify it. And I do feel sorry for him, for not being able to give him what he wanted, needed even. But that doesn't excuse him, doesn't make it all right. I want to know what will. Has he figured it out, is that why he's back? Will he be able to open his mouth and find a way to make it better rather than dig his own grave and fall into it face first? Cos that's what I want. That thing, whatever it is, that will make it alright for me to have missed him. Make it alright for me to still want him. Make it alright.  
  
So I'm waiting, watching him as he watches me. Avoiding starting something I might only be able to finish with a stake. Hoping he'll start something that leads to our atonement.  
  
Something that stops us being alone. 


End file.
